Follow the Emerald Way
by Citywriter84
Summary: What if Dorothy had been given magic jewellery to wear that was more use than the slippers? How would her journey have gone then? What would have happened on her quest to stop the Wicked Witch? Find out!
1. Chapter 1

**Dorothy gets the Power**

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _The story so far – so far the same as canon until Dorothy's house landed on the first Wicked Witch, who dropped a mysterious, jade facemask just before the house fell on her. Glinda was rather too keen on giving out dead witch's jewellery to random strangers. This time she persuades Dorothy to try on the mask. Think of the Wicked Witches as being just like those in Wicked the Musical and you won't go far wrong. To recap, Elphaba the green one was really cute and had a good heart. The other wicked witch, the one who gets a house on top of her but never actually appears in Wizard of Oz, really was a tyrant who oppressed the munchkins.  
_

* * *

"Oh isn't it beautiful, said Dorothy. But it's not mine."

"Try it on, said Glinda. What if it fits? If it does it could have the power to take you home."

"There's no harm in that," said Dorothy. She placed it carefully onto her face and then gasped and doubled over as it seemed to burn into her, welding to her, changing shape and texture.

"Well? Does it fit?" asked Glinda.

Dorothy stood up. The mask now clung to her face, bright green as ever, but smooth and tight like a second skin. Dorothy glanced at her reflection in a window pane of the house. The effect was of a dazzlingly green face, with lips of a darker green, almost black. Dorothy blinked and felt her face cautiously. She stroked her cheek, marvelling at the sensation. So smooth. The mask had transmuted into something else. "I never expected this," she said, "it feels like a second skin. But it really isn't mine. No, I must give it to its right owner." She tried to clutch at the mask, but only succeeded in pinching herself on the cheek and then the nose.

"How do I get it off?" she cried.

"I don't think you do," said Glinda. "I'm glad I didn't have to wear the thing. I get to keep my pretty looks and all of Oz is better for it. The Wicked Witch of the East was too vain to put it on and loose her pretty looks and now she is dead and all of Oz is better for it."

At that moment there was a sudden great gust of wind. It swirled around them and sounds of wailing and lamentation reached their ears. Toto crouched on the ground and whined. A dark shape swooped to the ground before them. Glinda drew close to Dorothy. A tall woman now stood before them, swathed in black, her long black hair swirling about her. Dorothy's eyes widened. The newcomer's face was startlingly green, just like her own was now. It was a very pretty face in other respects. Dorothy wondered if she wore green so well as this stranger. There was a wild look in the woman's piercing dark eyes. "Oh my sister, what have they done to you!" she cried, beating her own breast and giving every appearance of being distraught. With a sick feeling in her stomach, Dorothy realised she must have known the Wicked Witch of the East. And how bad could this witch be if someone grieved for her so?

"It's the Wicked Witch of the West," said Glinda in a hushed voice.

The witch turned and glared at them, her intense gaze taking in Dorothy's startlingly green face. "What have you done?" she said in a voice choked with emotion. "And why do you have that face little girl? Did you take it from her lifeless hand? Little thief! Give it to me."

"I can't get it off!" Cried Dorothy. "Can you help?"

"Don't speak to her," cautioned Glinda. "She can't hurt us. Your powers protect us both."

As if to drive the point home, the green faced witch screamed and a blustering gale blew around them, but it could not close in. It seemed held at bay by an invisible barrier. Then the gale died down.

"Rue this you shall," said the witch panting. "Mark my words." She mounted her broomstick and with astonishing speed was back in the air and then was gone.

"That was a stroke of luck," said Glinda.

Dorothy began to cry. "My house fell on her sister, didn't it?"

"Fell on a wicked witch," said Glinda firmly, "and you can be helped. The Wizard of Oz can set all this right."

Dorothy looked at her, suddenly mad with hope.

"He can put all this right? Really?" she demanded.

"Of course, he is the wizard," said Glinda tersely. "To find him, just follow the yellow brick road. Off you go now."

Dorothy turned and went, Toto scampering along after her. How would she fare now that the witch's magic mask was a part of her?


	2. Chapter 2

**New Friends**

 _ **Author's Note:** This is a pastiche of different versions of the Wizard of Oz. It owes a lot to Wicked the Musical and the ORIGINAL draft of the 1930s film. In the original casting, the wicked witch was supposed to be pretty like Elphaba, but they eventually decided she must look like a stereotypical wicked witch._

* * *

The scarecrow was tied to a wooden framework and had been for as long as he could remember. Why couldn't he remember more? Had his brain been taken away? His memories were hazy on that point. Perhaps that proved his brain was lost?

There was nothing to be seen except grassy expanses with the road of yellow brick down the middle. Nothing else today, nor yesterday… Wait!

There was a girl trotting along the yellow brick road. A little dog scampered at her heels. The first thing the Scarecrow noticed about the girl was her startlingly green face. Now that rang a bell with him… who else had a green face?

She did look a nice girl however. She had long red hair, flowing loose over her shoulders and a sensible frock. She also had bright red shoes, apparently made up of individual rubies. Blood red to contrast with her brightly coloured face. Well the slippers were valuable if they were genuine.

Could she help him? He really wanted to get free and not be stuck in this boring place day after day…

"Help!" he called, but his voice was dry and reedy and too soft to be heard by any human ear. But the dog heard it and barked.

"What is it Toto?" asked the girl. Her voice was nice too. She had a drawling, sing-song accent that he couldn't place. He had never been to Kansas before. Toto barked again and scampered over to him.

The girl put her hands to her mouth and her blue eyes widened. She ran over to the scarecrow. Close up he could see how smooth and shiny her entire face looked. As if her skin were really some kind of synthetic material brought to life.

The scarecrow opened and closed his mouth trying to speak, but this time he could make no words, only very soft sounds which caused Toto to bark all the more.

"Poor thing. You're alive, aren't you?" said the girl, cocking her head, her blue eyes quizzical. The scarecrow nodded feebly.

"I wish I could get you down…" said the girl and reached for his arms. Suddenly her green face seemed to glow bright and as she touched him, he felt a jolt as though from an electric current. Suddenly he felt strength flood through him. The girl must have felt it too, because she gave a little cry.

"Please help me down," urged the scarecrow.

"I really do want to," said the girl, standing on tiptoe and straining to reach the ropes that tied him to the wooden frame. Suddenly the ropes began to move of their own volition as if they were snakes. They were unwinding and unknotting. They fell away and the scarecrow slid to the ground. He could stand. He was a little dizzy, but he could stand.

"Oh you're alright!" squealed the girl, flinging her arms around him. "I don't know how I did it, but you're free now. I'm Dorothy and this is Toto, my dog."

"I'm just a scarecrow," said the scarecrow, "and I'm missing a brain. Perhaps your magic could help?"

"I don't have magic," said Dorothy, her wide blue eyes puzzled.

"You made those knots unwind with magic," the scarecrow pointed out.

"I don't know how I did that. I'm going to see the Wizard of Oz. He's going to help me get my face back."

That puzzled the scarecrow. "You have your face. I can see perfectly well. Cute, bright green cheeks and forehead, blue eyes, shiny green nose, dark green lips…"

Dorothy wrinkled her shiny green nose. "It's a mistake. This is not my real face. I put on a green mask and I can't take it off."

Surely it was her real face then if it didn't come off? But the scarecrow didn't argue. "Why don't we go to see the Wizard together?" he suggested, "and he could also give me a brain while he fixes you."

"Alright!" said Dorothy and they linked arms and skipped along the road together, singing:

"We're off to see the Wizard,

The wonderful Wizard of Oz."

Toto scampered along behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

**More Meetings**

Dorothy's enthusiasm was infectious and soon the Scarecrow was skipping along beside her. But eventually he grew tired.

"Sorry, I'm going to have to rest a while," he said and he paused.

Dorothy's green face was full of concern. "Will you be alright dear?"

A jumble of images were flooding back to the scarecrow. "I have lost many parts of myself," he said suddenly, "I am not a proper person anymore."

"No! You are," said Dorothy, putting her arms round him and hugging him to her.

"There is something I want to talk about, but can't," croaked the Scarecrow.

"Whatever you want to tell me, I will listen," said Dorothy, "and I hope – I hope I can help."

"I have lost my man part," said the Scarecrow in a rush.

Dorothy blinked, and gazed up at him, sunlight shining off her green nose and cheeks.

"I have lost the part of me that makes a man a man. I am just a straw thing." He added and then suddenly wished he had not been so blunt. She was a mere girl, however strange she might look. How could she understand stuff like this? "I don't think any female person can grasp this, but it really hurts a man's psyche if he is not a proper man."

"Oh my dear, you are a proper man," said Dorothy, her eyes bright with tears, "don't ever tell yourself that you aren't. And I am a girl so I suppose I can't quite understand about man parts, but the wizard will and he will put you right. Just you wait and see."

At that moment Toto barked and ran off the yellow brick road and into a field.

"Toto, what is it? Oh!" Dorothy put her hands to her mouth as she saw what Toto was excited about. A man made of shining silver metal stood in the field. He was standing stiff and unmoving. He was holding a wickedly sharp axe. Dorothy took the Scarecrow's crude straw hand in her slender pink one. "Stick by me, dear. We must be careful."

Close to, the metal man did appear to be made of metal, but his face was surprisingly detailed. The Scarecrow wondered – could he be in the same predicament as himself?

Dorothy turned to the Scarecrow. "Wait there, dear Scarecrow, I must see if he is alive."

She approached cautiously and laid her delicate fingers on the chest of the metal man. At once, the metal man's eyes flicked open and he moved with a terrible screeching, creaking sound.

Dorothy put her green face close to the metal man's. The Scarecrow marvelled at her courage.

"Hello, can you hear me? I'm Dorothy and my friend over there is the Scarecrow. And here is Toto, my little dog."

"Good afternoon there," rasped the metal man, "I was wondering if I could have some of that oil." There was a container of oil nearby.

"Of course," said Dorothy, picking up the oil and applying it carefully to the metal man's joints.

"You will be wondering who I am and what I'm doing," rasped the metal man. His voice had a grinding, metallic quality. "I am now the Tin Man. But I did not always deserve that disgraceful title. The Wicked Witch of the West did this to me. In her dastardly spitefulness, she took away my heart and turned me into this abomination. She is far worse than her sister, the Wicked Witch of the East."

"You're not an abomination," said Dorothy, looking upset. "The Wizard of Oz can cure you. We're both going to see him. You should come."

"An excellent notion," said the Tin Man, "I get my heart back and then revenge on the witches."

"The Wicked Witch of the East is dead," said Dorothy in a small voice, "my house fell on her."

"Excellent," said the Tin Man, beaming, "you have done well. I wish Glinda the Good had had your courage. I see you have a green face… you are as magically powerful as the Wicked Witch of the West? You can kill her too?"

The Scarecrow wished the Tin Man would not keep talking about death so much. He would have protected poor Dorothy's ears from such things if he could. The anguish in her green face was obvious as she shook her head. "No, I didn't mean for my face to go green. We must go to the Wizard and he can cure us all."

The Tin man turned to the Scarecrow with an ominous creaking sound. "Oho! A literal straw man! Well this looks like more dastardly witchcraft. You believe the Wizard can cure a heartless metal man and the straw man of metaphor."

"Metaphor? I don't understand?" said Dorothy shaking her head so that her long red hair rippled and bounced.

The Scarecrow did not want her to be confused. "When people talk of a "straw man" argument, they mean that someone has created a simplified argument that they can refute easily."

"Oh…" Dorothy wrinkled her shiny green nose and then folded her arms. "Well then Tin Man, please don't call dear Scarecrow a straw man. I don't think it sounds nice."

"I absolutely won't if you don't want me to," said the Tin Man. "Now tell me, how exactly did the vile witch die."

"It was my house landing on her," murmured Dorothy very softly.

"Well you rid us all of a terrible tyrant, one who took away the munchkins' rights and treated me as her personal slave for years. You have released the munchkins and I owe you my allegiance. On my axe I swear fealty to you. What are your commands, Mistress?"

Dorothy blinked. "Well first, I'm not your Mistress, just your friend. Second, we're all going to see the Wizard. He'll make everything right."

"Right you are, dear Dorothy," grated the Tin Man.

And so the three of them marched along singing: "We're off to see the wizard…"

The Tin Man's grinding metallic voice was an interesting accompaniment. The Scarecrow supposed that they must make an intriguing site. A girl with a shiny green face, holding the hand of a living scarecrow as they both skipped along while the Tin Man marched with long strides, effortlessly keeping pace. Toto scampered along behind them.


End file.
